


Extreme Home Makeover: Forest Edition

by goodnight_tinyhumans



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pack Feels, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnight_tinyhumans/pseuds/goodnight_tinyhumans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years later, Derek finally decides to start remodelling the Hale house. Stiles just so happens to need a project for his film course.</p><p>And so Extreme Home Makeover: Forest Edition was born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extreme Home Makeover: Forest Edition

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/7250.html?thread=6414162#t6414162) at the kink meme.
> 
> Beta'd as always by the lovely OhNylL, who got a quick cameo in this one as a thank-you :)

The video starts with a shot of an old house. It’s half-broken down, half-destroyed, mostly in ruins; but anyone with an eye for architecture- and even most people without- can tell that it was, and could be again, a beautiful house.

The camera zooms in as a voice starts to talk over the footage.

“So, hi, my name is Stiles and welcome to Extreme Home Makeover: Forest Edition,” he says. “For anyone who hasn’t seen my channel before, I’m a student in California and my dream is to be the next Michael Moore. My friend D is starting to remodel his house and since I was sorely lacking in the final project department, he’s oh so kindly offered to help me out by letting me film the whole process. Say hi, D!”

The film cuts to a close-up of a man- dressed in a wifebeater and jeans that look a bit out of place for construction- standing in front of the house. He looks annoyed, reluctant to be in front of the camera; he’s standing with his arms crossed, leaning against a beam and glaring at the boy behind the camera.

“Hi,” he says grudgingly, a beat too late to be convincing.

“Tell our lovely viewers a bit about the project,” Stiles says encouragingly. D shrugs.

“The house burned down eight years ago,” D begins, jaw set. “I moved back to the area a while back but I was too busy to fix it up right away.”

“And here we are,” Stiles cuts in brightly.

The video cuts to another wide shot of the house, Stiles’ voice babbling about measurements and blueprints. The camera catches a glimpse of D in the bottom corner, rolling his eyes in the camera’s direction, but with a fond half-smile on his face nonetheless.

\--

“Dude, this project is the best thing ever,” Stiles says happily six weeks later when he plops down next to Derek with his laptop. Derek sighs, running a hand through his hair and putting down the glass of iced tea he had just sat down with. Open drinks around an excited Stiles had a very high mortality rate.

“Is that so,” he drawls, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yup,” Stiles tells him. “Seriously, though, you’re like a god to these people. I thought it was awesome getting a couple hundred views on the first episode, but man, week two jumped up to a couple _thousand_. Week five was up to ten thousand. And last week? Today’s Tuesday. I posted the video three days ago. It’s sitting right at fifteen and it’s been up for three days, man!”

Derek frowns, watching as Stiles pulls up a browser window with the latest video already loaded.

“That’s… a lot of people,” he points out unnecessarily. “Is that really… safe?”

“God, you sound like my dad,” Stiles groans, rolling his eyes. “I like to think I know a bit more about the internet than my father or Beacon Hills’ resident mountain wolf, okay? I’ve done all the cover-my-tracks bullshit, even got Danny to check it over for me. We don’t ever use last names or show the town, just a house in the woods that looks like any other woods.”

“Okay, okay,” Derek surrenders. “Fine. I get it. I’m glad your project is doing well.”

“Oh, it’s totally not me they’re interested in,” Stiles chuckles. “Check it out.”

He presses play on the video, and Derek sees himself, Scott, and Isaac, all stripped to the waist and sanding down some plaster as Stiles and Lydia talk in the background about what they’re doing, using technical terms that Derek still isn’t really that familiar with despite the fact that he’s been doing this for almost two months. Stiles moves, pointing at the box next to the video, where a live feed of comments updates every few seconds.

“Check it out,” he tells Derek, so he does.

 _I could watch this for hours_ , the first comment reads. _What I wouldn’t give to be in that room right about now._

 _I think D keeps getting hotter every episode_ , the next one says. Derek reads a few more, eyebrows climbing higher and higher with every new comment that talks about his ass, or his abs, or, God forbid, the one that speculates about whether or not the bunch of them have some odd, polygamist, time-share relationship going on.

“What the hell, Stiles,” he growls, turning to glare at the boy. “Why are they talking about me, about the pack, like we’re in porn?” He pauses for a minute, eyeing Stiles speculatively. “Did you make this into porn?”

“You say that like you think I actually would,” Stiles grumbles. “But, no, actually. It’s not my fault you and your furry friends are all allergic to shirts and that you’re all carved out of metaphorical marble. Come on, dude. You’ve looked in a mirror lately. It’s not like it’s news that anyone with eyes flocks to, well, that.” He gestures with both hands at Derek, the implication obvious.

“Why do they think I’m sleeping with my betas, Stiles?”

“Because teenage girls apparently like nothing better than thinking about dudes getting it on. It’s the twenty-first century, Derek, live a little.”

Derek rolls his eyes again, because there’s no use talking to Stiles when he’s gotten on the tangent of trying to domesticate Derek- he knows how to use a computer, thank you, and he can even download movies and other things- and pulls the laptop off of the younger man’s lap. Stiles lets out an annoyed huff, trying to pout and giving up after a moment when Derek focuses on reading through the comments instead.

For every person who actually comments on what they’re doing- whether it’s painting, or sanding, or building, or whatever- there are ten, fifteen, twenty more that are very, very interested in Derek. There’s plenty of love for the betas, as well, and more than a few men seem to have found their calling in writing suggestions to Lydia and Erica, who have teamed up and put themselves in charge of all decorative elements of the place. But by the eighteenth time Derek reads about how _lickable_ the vee of his hips is, he realizes he’s never been more tempted to rub wolfsbane into his eyes until he can’t see anymore. He shuts the lid of the laptop, and the only reason he doesn’t throw it at Stiles is because he doesn’t want to buy the boy another one.

“Please just make them stop,” he says curtly, pushing himself up off the couch. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

He’s halfway out of the room before Stiles stops staring and yells after him,

“Then keep your damn clothes on!”

\--

He only feels a tiny bit bad when Stiles is grumpy the next week. Derek had steadfastly refused to take his shirt off this time, which, really, was entirely Stiles’ suggestion in the first place. So what if he conveyed it to the betas with a series of growled orders? He’s not just going to stand by and let Stiles objectify them for his own benefit.

Although, technically, since Stiles is funnelling the proceeds from the ads on the site back into the remodelling, it’s to all their benefits.

Damnit. Now he does sort of actually feel bad.

\--

The camera turns on suddenly, taking a few seconds to focus on the boy in front of the lens. The scowl on his face is almost comical; he’s standing in the middle of a half-finished room, arms crossed over his chest, a paintbrush dangling loosely from his long fingers, dangerously close to leaving a wide stripe of dark gray across his bare skin.

There’s whispering behind the camera, then the familiar voice of D says, “Go.”

The boy sticks out his tongue, then pastes on a smile and waves at the camera.

“Hey, guys, and welcome back to Extreme Home Makeover: Forest Edition. I’m Stiles, and because it has recently been brought to my attention that I haven’t actually been on camera before in this series- and it’s totally fair, D, don’t give me that face, I’m the film student, here- this week you get to pay attention to my skinny ass.” His grin does actually seem to widen as he launches into an explanation about this week’s project, and as the segment continues, he gets more comfortable, letting his arms flail around as he gets excited about it.

The camera work isn’t as professional as the other segments; it’s jerky, and sometimes the camera seems to shake, like whoever is behind it is trying to suppress a cough, or a laugh. There are many moments when the shot focuses in on some small detail- Stiles’ smile, the way the light comes through the window, Stiles’ long fingers delicately handling a paintbrush. But odd shots and Stiles’ natural exuberance aside, it’s a calm sort of vibe. Calmer than when D and the boys are in front of the camera, anyway.

After the usual twenty minutes, Stiles gives his sign-off. It’s not much more than a smile and a jaunty wave, but it’s more than D’s customary eye-roll. There’s a quiet clunk as the camera is set down on the floor, Stiles’ bare feet in the background, slightly out of focus. There’s a murmur that the camera can’t quite pick up, followed by Stiles’ quiet laugh as a second pair of feet walk into the frame. They stand together, close but not-quite-touching. There is a little more quiet talking, then a tiny, bitten-off sound that’s not quite a moan before the screen goes black.

\--

“Derek, you have _got_ to see this,” Stiles crows from his spot on the couch. Derek smiles, ruffling Stiles’ hair as he throws himself down onto the couch, next to (or half on top of) Stiles.

The screen of Stiles’ laptop is open to the latest video, the one of Stiles, and Derek can see the comment feed going crazy. But Stiles has pulled up a particular comment, and he’s looking at Derek expectantly, thumb caught between his teeth to keep from babbling.

_Don’t look now, guys, but I’m pretty sure D’s off the market. You can’t tell me that’s not him, and you can’t tell me they’re not making out right there. If only they’d left the camera rolling!_

“So?” Derek says after a moment. He looks up at Stiles, smiling a little when the younger boy rolls his eyes.

“So? You’re telling me it’s not weird that this…” He pauses, peers at the username. “This OhNylL chick could tell from ten seconds of footage that you have the major, major hots for me?”

“The mulberry bush in the back yard could probably tell I have the hots for you,” Derek says mildly. “Besides, what was it you said? It’s the twenty-first century, Stiles, live a little,” he mocks gently, before reaching up and pulling Stiles’ head down for a quick kiss.

“Thoughts on making a sex tape for my senior project?” Stiles suggests breathlessly when they pulled apart.

“Absolutely not.”


End file.
